The Witch With No Name

by Kim Harrison

  “This is her fault!” I exclaimed, my hand shaking as I pointed at Nina. “She let him in!”

  “I did not!”

  She wasn’t a very convincing liar, especially when she scooted across the bed to get closer to the door and away from me. “How else would Cormel know where we were?” I demanded, and Trent took her shoulders. If it was to keep her unmoving or to keep me from smacking her, I didn’t know.

  “I wouldn’t help Cormel!” Nina objected, eyes darting. “I’ve not even told my sister where I am!”

  But if Felix was as good as I thought, she’d never know he was there. I hadn’t in the ever-after.

  Ivy’s hand was cold on my arm, her fingers making a tingling path. “You don’t have to,” I said softly, and Nina’s face went ashen. “Tell her. Tell Ivy, or I’m going to.”

  “I . . . I . . . ,” Nina stammered, pulling away from Trent to stand alone. She wanted to be caught in the lie. She wanted it to end. She could be innocent—but I didn’t trust her.

  “Rachel . . .” Ivy’s voice held heartache. It ticked me off. Ivy knew she wasn’t clean.

  “Tell her how you’ve been letting Felix in,” I said, and Nina dropped her head, her beauty marred by fear. “As long as he stays quiet, you’ve been letting him see the sun and remember what it’s like to love someone.”

  Her head snapped up. “Stop it!” she protested, but she wasn’t nearly angry enough.

  “You don’t have enough control,” I said, carefully gauging her mood as I goaded her. “He’s been doing it for you! Ivy’s been risking her life, everything, to help you get out from under him, and you’re sneaking behind her back, pretending you’re clean, but you’re nothing but a filthy vampire doll cutting lines in your own arm to suck on!”

  Nina stiffened. “How dare you!” she exclaimed, eyes black.

  I rocked back to put distance between us. “How dare I?” I echoed. “If he wasn’t in you now, you’d be at my throat. You don’t have enough control on your own—not with all the power he’s dumped into you. Little girl whining about how hard it is. You need to decide if you love her or him, and make your choice. Frankly, I don’t care about you, but I will not let you drag Ivy back down into that slime. He’s in you now, isn’t he? Isn’t he!”

  Nina’s eyes widened, but it wasn’t me she was afraid of. Trent wisely eased back as Nina shuddered, a violent spasm taking her. I swallowed hard, tensing when her trembling ceased. I could hear people whispering nervously in the hall, and I prayed they didn’t come in.

  For three seconds, Nina didn’t move, head bowed and hands clenched. Slowly, as if settling into her skin, she drew herself up into a confident stance and cold mien. When her eyes met mine, it wasn’t Nina anymore. I was starting to wonder if it ever had been.

  Behind me, Ivy groaned, heartbroken.

  “You’re becoming a pain in my ass,” Nina said, but though the voice was the same, the cadence was not. It was Felix: devious, soulless, politically powerful, and yet still Cormel’s ward. Cincinnati’s master vampire was required by law to chaperone him until old age and madness picked away the last of him and he walked into the sun. It looked close now. Nina would go with him. I could see no other path, and my heart ached for Ivy. She had wanted to help her so badly, saw her own redemption in saving Nina. That’s what hurt the most.

  I backed down with a show of deference if only to save my skin. This was all I had wanted: Ivy to see so she wouldn’t blind herself any longer. “Get Ivy out of here. I want to talk to Felix alone,” I said, and Ivy protested as Trent helped her out. Nina shifted her gaze to Ivy as they passed, and I stiffened.

  “Leave the door open,” I said softly, and Nina snorted, the sound both scornful and masculine. I didn’t care if Felix knew I was scared. I was, and I didn’t want that door shut. I could hear doctors, and my worry for Ivy eased. She’d be okay. Me, however . . .

  Finding a firmer stance, Nina tugged the sleeves of her trendy, soiled jacket as if it was a business suit. Glancing down, she frowned at the state of her untidiness, a soft tsk-tsk escaping her as Felix noticed the hole in her nylons and that she was pretty much barefoot and filthy.

  “Tell Cormel that I’m working on how to fix souls to the undead and to back off,” I said, wishing I had that bed bar in easy reach.

  “I’m not your messenger boy.” She was looking at Ivy’s chart, again shaking her head. “We are so fragile.” Her head came up, and a cold wash went through me, making her eyes dilate. “And yet we cling to life long past what should be possible.”

  I took a breath and held it. “If Ivy dies, I’ll never give you what you want. You can tell Cormel that, too.”

  Nina twitched, and I wondered if Nina was trying to regain control. “If we don’t get what we want, Ivy dies. If we still don’t get what we want, you die. Give us what we want, and everyone lives. Why do you hesitate?”

  Again, she twitched, her knees almost buckling. Hope, unexpected and almost painful, pulled through me. Nina? Ivy had never given up on Nina. Maybe I shouldn’t either.

  “It’s impossible,” I said, wondering. “It can’t be done.”

  Nina put a hand on the dresser, her head bowing in pain, and my pulse thundered. “That’s . . . what you’re good at,” Felix said through her. “Doing the impossible. Blind. The living are so blind. Why do you fight this? That you love her burns like the sun itself. You could have everything, and yet you still fear it?”

  My breath came in fast, and I held it. Felix was talking about Ivy. Yes, I loved Ivy, but I couldn’t give her what she craved, deserved. The one time I’d tried, it almost killed me. But that’s not why I’d said no. “I’m not afraid,” I said, my resolve faltering when even the last rims of brown were lost behind the utter blackness of her eyes. The air seemed to haze, and my skin tingled from the pheromones he was pulling from her, sophisticated and far beyond her living-vampire abilities.

  “You’re afraid to love,” she said, pushing back from the dresser and tossing her hair from her eyes. Felix was regaining control, and a thread of doubt pulled through me. “Ivy still waits for you. Nina knows it. She knows Ivy loves you best. That’s why I will win.”

  “I’m not afraid to love someone,” I whispered, but the pain in my gut said he might be right. I’d said no to Ivy, not because she’d almost killed me, but because I was afraid that by saying yes, I’d lose my own dreams, my own self. Would I lose them now if I stayed with Trent?

  “Shut up,” I whispered as Nina began to laugh. “I said shut up!” I shouted, and her chortling glee took on a hysterical sound before it eased into a happy mmm of sound. My jaw clenched. I didn’t care that he was feeding off my anger, relishing it. I wasn’t afraid to love someone. I wasn’t! I’d loved Kisten. And he had died.

  “Nina is too weak,” she said, running an ever-after-stained finger across Nina’s neck in a motion of seduction. “Her love isn’t strong enough to best me. Leave me alone.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, chin high. “But Ivy’s is strong enough for both of them.”

  Nina eyes flicked to mine, her expression suddenly blank.

  Seeing it, I felt my resolve strengthen. Ivy. It had always been about Ivy. “Nina,” I said suddenly. “You love her. Don’t let her think she doesn’t deserve you! She needs you, Nina, more than you need her! More than she needs me. You know that!”

  “You stupid little . . . bitch . . . ,” Nina choked out, suddenly wavering. She stiffened, stumbling back. “No. You’re mine. You’re mine!” Nina cried, a hand reaching as her eyes went wide. A silent scream came from her, mouth open as she gasped, and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head. I sprang forward to catch her as she went limp, her sudden weight almost bringing us both down.

  “Trent!” I shouted, managing to at least break our fall. Maybe Ivy was right. Love had given Nina the strength when nothing else had.

  “Oh God!” Nina sobbed, her voice high and panicked as she huddled on the floor beside the bed. “Someone help . . . me
. Someone help me!”

  “I’ve got you, Nina,” I said, wrapping my arms around the panicked woman as Trent skidded in. He must have been just outside the door, and my face flamed at what he’d overheard. “Ivy is going to be so proud of you.”

  Trent reached to help us up. “Ivy’s okay. What happened?”

  My foot was twisted, and I wedged it out from under me. “Nina kicked him out,” I said, truly proud of her as Trent helped me get her up. I’d call her a wimp, but what she’d done was incredible. “Upsy-daisy. That a girl!”

  Her wailing suddenly ceased, and Trent’s hands sprang away as her head lifted, a snarl on her face. “I hate you!” she screamed, jerking from me. “I hate you! You don’t know anything! Leave me alone! Ivy is mine. I hate you!”

  Yep, Felix was gone. She was on her own now, and out of control.

  “Watch it!” Trent warned, and I danced back when she swung at me, her fingers crooked into claws. But it was only Nina, and I ducked under her arm, pinning her arms to her sides and tilting my head when she flung her head back to hit me. Ivy was at the door, eyes holding love and pride, slumped in one of the doctor’s arms. I waved her back, but she knew better than to come in yet.

  “That’s better,” I soothed, trying to keep Nina facing me. The hormones that Felix had been turning on in her brain were running like a bad drug trip. He’d been keeping her calm and under control before, and now she was alone, tossed into the deep end of the pool with no life preserver. “Slow breaths. Calm down. Ivy’s right next door,” I lied.

  “Let me go!” She began to twist, going limp and then wildly kicking out. “I hate you! Where’s Ivy? You can’t keep her from me! I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll kill you both!”

  “My God.” Trent glanced at Ivy as he jerked out of reach of Nina’s swinging foot. Tears spilled from Ivy, and she held a hand to her mouth. “Is this normal?”

  Ivy nodded, still a silent witness. I’d seen this before. Actually, I’d seen worse. “Breathe, Nina,” I said, tossing my head to indicate the drugs on the side table. “No one is attacking you.”

  “Ivy!” Nina raged, her voice raw.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I soothed as Nina stopped fighting and began to sob. “Ivy loves you. She needs you. She doesn’t need me anymore. I’m not going to keep you apart. She’s resting. You can see her in a minute.” My face flamed. How much had Trent heard? All of it?

  At the door, Ivy closed her eyes, aching. The doctor holding her upright finally stopped trying to get her to leave, and the professional woman watched with sympathy as Trent readied a syringe. I made my hold on Nina even looser as he took her arm. Those veins of hers were popping up like mole trails, and Nina watched through the tears as he angled the needle to her inner elbow. As out-of-control vampires went, this wasn’t half bad. Guilt had tempered her.

  Snuffling, she said, “I didn’t mean to let him stay. I thought I had this. I wouldn’t hurt Ivy for anything. Ow! I love her. What did you give me?”

  The spent adrenaline and lack of sleep were making me shake. “I know you do,” I said as Trent silently backed up to dispose of the empty syringe. “It’s going to be okay now. Take a deep breath. You want to lie down?”

  She didn’t answer, the drug already hitting her. But she was looking at the pillow, so I eased her down, pulling her feet up as if she were a child and drawing a blanket over her. Eyes already closed, she clutched Ivy’s pillow, breath fast as she fell into a medically induced sleep.

  Slowly and in pain, Ivy shuffled in with the help of that doctor. Worried, I stood over Nina as Trent moved the cushy chair right to the bedside. No one said anything as Ivy sank down, and I put a hand on her shoulder. The doctor fussed about getting her back into a proper bed until I gave her a dark look, and she finally left in a professional huff, leaving the door open behind her.

  “Wow,” Trent said, and I took a long, slow breath. “I’m totally out of my depth here.”

  “She’ll be fine now,” Ivy whispered, and Nina whimpered as Ivy intertwined her long fingers in Nina’s broken-nail, red-dust-smeared perfection. “Everything will be fine. The hard part is over.” Tears spilled from her, and she kissed the top of Nina’s hand. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Hard part over? I wasn’t so sure.

  It smelled of frightened vampire and the ever-after, and my neck was starting to tingle. I’m not afraid to love someone, am I? I turned away, and Trent caught my elbow.

  “Rachel, I can kill the vampire virus, but I don’t know how to treat someone coming off a master high.”

  “Soon as Ivy’s stable, we’re leaving,” I said, not really answering his concern. “It’s not safe here.”

  Ivy nodded, and deciding they were okay for now, I went into the hall. I didn’t think anywhere was safe anymore. I didn’t know what to do, and frustration tempered with fatigue rose up, swamping me.

  Turning from the closed door, Trent ran a hand over his chin in thought. “Let me ask around,” he said softly as we started down the hallway. “See who owes me a favor.”

  But no one owed Trent Kalamack favors anymore. Again, sort of my fault.

  My guilt thickened, and sensing it, Trent looped his arm in mine, slowing our pace. “Rachel, you aren’t afraid to love. He was saying anything he could think of to put you on edge.”

  Crap. Embarrassed, I tried to quicken my steps back to the kitchen and hopefully some coffee. “I think that’s the last we’re going to see of Felix for a while,” I said with forced cheerfulness, desperately trying to change the subject.

  Beside me, Trent sighed in acceptance. “I hope so. But really, Rachel, what are the chances? Twice in one night.”

  My pace slowed, and I nodded at the doctor as she passed us in the hall on her way back to Ivy and Nina. “The chances were never good,” I admitted. “But it feels better now. Nina kicked him out. The longer Felix sulks, the more stable she will be when he tries again.” Because he would try again.

  But thin as it was, it was still hope, and my heart ached for Ivy as we found the kitchen. Tired, I sank back down in my chair, glancing at the newly lit monitor before letting my focus blur and my head hit the table.

  Trent sighed, and I heard him take the cold waffles out of the toaster. “You ever see anything like that before? With the surface demons?”

  “You mean that one fought the others off?” I lifted my head. “Only when they wanted to eat me by themselves.”

  “That’s not what he was doing, though.” Trent’s lips twisted as he looked at the waffles. “These are awful. I’m making you some from scratch.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I said, and he turned from throwing them away, his eyes pinched.

  “Coffee?” he asked, and I nodded just so he’d lose that sad look. His reach for a mug hesitated at the sound of men in the hall, but it was just Quen setting up additional security. A faint smile twisted my lips. I imagine a white-clad vampire sneaking into the common rooms had put Trent’s head of security in a tizzy. Thank God Jonathan had been there.

  I blinked. Thank God Jonathan had been there? Never thought I’d think that.

  Trent set three full mugs on the table, and I pulled the nearest closer, a flutter going through me as I felt as if I was a part of something—Trent expected Quen to join us, and I was a natural part of the conversation—even if Quen acted as if he was humoring us.

  “What strikes me as the oddest is that the demon who defended Nina was the same one who tried to chew her face off not thirty seconds earlier,” Trent said, gaze unfocused as he held his coffee and breathed in the steam. “One moment she’s breakfast, and the next she’s a god.”

  I tapped the mug with a finger, not liking the red dust under the nail. “I think I’d do a little groveling myself if I’d never seen a master vampire before.”

  “True.” Trent bobbed his head. “But the rest didn’t seem to care.”

  “You noticed that, too?” I took a sip, startled by the rich warmth, but my thoughts were on I
vy. She was going to be okay, but the panic of sitting with her on the cold ever-after ground, holding her hand as she died, was just under my skin. I thanked God I hadn’t had to make that choice of following her desires and killing her again before she rose as an undead.

  Oblivious to my thoughts, or more probable, aware and trying to distract me, Trent said, “I’ve never seen a surface demon with a weapon before. Apart from rocks.”

  “I have,” I said, turning my mug in a revolving circle. “Newt used a surface demon as a marker in a time and space calibration curse. It had a sword. That’s how she knows which one it is and how long it lived.”

  Kisten, I thought, sighing. Kisten had died twice within moments of his first death. I’d been there, but thankfully I hadn’t had to make that choice.

  I had held Kisten’s hand and he had died happy, telling me that God had kept his soul for him. Stop it, Rachel, I thought miserably, wiping a tear away before it could brim as I recalled Kisten’s laughing smile. God! My emotions were all over the map. I had loved Kisten. I could love someone without fear. Felix was wrong.

  Trent’s eyes were pinched, and he fidgeted. “Calibration curse?” he asked, desperate to get my mind on something else.

  Smiling faintly, I reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Ask me some other time,” I said, remembering the pain of the surface demon living its entire existence in the span of three heartbeats. I was starting to think that surface demons weren’t much more than ghosts, living, breathing ghosts who lusted after the living like the undead only without the shackles that a consciousness imparted. How could anything survive five thousand years without magic?

  Clearly relieved, Trent scooted his chair closer to mine. “You think it’s the same one? Newt’s, I mean?”

  Tired, I shook my head. “Newt’s had a sword. This one used a staff.” Felix used a staff, too. Maybe that was why the surface demon liked him. But the question remained, why had it done a one-eighty and turned into a groveling love puppy? “You know, it was almost as if the surface demon knew Felix already,” I said slowly. “And didn’t recognize him at first.”